Weiss, Meet Wizard
by DragonLadyRM
Summary: Crossover. Crossdressing. Yohji abuse. Abuse of classic film. And I'm not kind to Schwartz either. Faint whiff of AxY, very faint, same as suggestion of substance abuse. Gratuitous 80s band mention. This is humor? ! Shh, you'll spoil the surprise! 1shot


Title: **Weiss, Meet Wizard**

The mission tonight had been a bust. Three hours of waiting in a warehouse bored out of his mind and all for nothing: the target had rescheduled the meeting and spent the night at his mistress' instead. Omi claimed to have called him earlier in the evening with the information but his cell phone never rang. He snorted. It figured. Damn thing had been acting up all week, screwing up his dates and ringing at precisely the wrong time when it did work. One more drop of misery in a week of rainy days. Yesterday Ken left his muddy soccer cleats in the laundry room, on top of his favorite silk shirt, now ruined. And Aya'd been riding his ass all week about his work at the shop. What did it matter if he gave away a few flowers to some pretty girls? He was supposed to encourage them to return!

Oh well. While it was late, at least he wouldn't have to fight the others for the shower. Off to his room first to shed mission gear, then to the bathroom where he gleefully planned to use up all the hot water.

Removing his key from the door, he turned the knob to enter his apartment. And was met with an amazing sight.

What had he done to piss the rest of the team off? And how the hell had they managed to redecorate his room like this? He rubbed his eyes, but the brightly colored vision of a flower-bedecked landscape remained. Those colors couldn't be natural; he was a florist, he'd know! They were so bright they made his eyes hurt! And running through it all was –

-- No, he had to be drunk. But he hadn't had a drink yet today. And it couldn't be drugs; he hadn't eaten anything since before the stakeout. Any drugs slipped to him would have taken effect already. But it had to be drugs! -- How else could you explain the road winding through all those flowers? Even more impossible, it appeared to made of cobblestones. Nobody used those but historic districts. And how could yellow possibly be correct to any era?

No way could all this fit in his room! The horizon looked to be miles away! Frantic, he turned around to exit as quickly as possible (and get that drink he swore he hadn't had, and as large as possible, thank you very much!) but the door was –

Gone?

"Ahem."

Where was that coming from? He didn't see anyone.

"A-hem!"

He whirled in search of the voice.

"Excuse me? Down here, you idiot!"

He looked down, only to see a short little man, clad in white leather, his shirt a mass of buckles. It could have been a straightjacket, but he was too absorbed with staring at the little man's eye patch and white hair. If it wasn't for the height difference, he could swear it was –

"I'm Farfarello and I represent The Assassin's Guild. And you're very rude, you know. It's not polite to stare. Staring hurts God, so I guess I'll let you get away with it this time."

"Um. Where am I, and what have you done to my room?"

"You're in Munchkin Land and your room," he gestured behind Yohji, "is over there."

And indeed it was. Only it was the entire Koneko no Sumu Ie, and it appeared to be perched on a set of long legs clad in striped stockings. He bent over for a closer look.

"I wouldn't suggest that. She's not quite dead." He jumped back as the legs twitched. The little jerk could have warned him sooner.

"Ahem. As I was saying, I represent the Assassins' Guild and we'd like to welcome you to Munchkin Land." Those word appeared to be the cue for a number of other figures, all equally vertically-challenged, to filter out from behind the garish flora. He cursed under his breath. He'd be damned if that wasn't Schuldig in the front, what with the orange hair and green coat. He'd recognize that leer anywhere. And from the sudden glint off of a pair of glasses, there was Crawford, too. Only he could be that short yet maintain an immaculately pressed suit.

"Wait. Who are those characters over there? They don't look, er, human."

"Those fellas in the black quilted coats, with the black skin and hair?"

"Yeah, the ones that look like something from an old Styx movie - Kilroy, Roboto, I don't know."

"Oh, those are the _atevi_. They're members, too."(1)

"Balinese!" a nasal voice spoke up. "You didn't think the Assassins' Guild is limited to Earth, are you? Shame on you! Typical Weiss, always easily distracted. Haven't you figured it out yet?"

"Maybe. But if you're the Munchkins, where's the Witch of the North?" Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. "She's supposed to introduce me to the Munchkins, right?" It could be Birman, but from the hair he was betting it was Manx –

"Kudoh."

Oh damn. He'd know that growl anywhere but prayed he was wrong. But how many people could there be in the world who could pack such menace into a single name? If it was who he feared, this person did have a lot of practice doing just that, only with another name. Maybe if he didn't turn to face that voice he'd be wrong.

"Kudoh! Turn around, damn you!"

There was no help for it. Slowly he turned. And laughed. He couldn't help it.

"Kudoh. You. Will. Die."

Aya? Aya of the orange turtleneck? Who wore the same five outfits over and over? Who never smiled? Whose name was in the dictionary as the antonym of "fun"? No, this couldn't be Aya - or could it? This person resembling Aya was clad in a pink, frothy confection of a ballgown, topped with a tall silver crown on his head, accessorized with a wand clenched in his folded arms, and all of it covered with silver sparkles.

Wouldn't you laugh?

"**KUDOH**!"

But from the way this Aya-clone brandished the wand as a katana and the strength of the death-glare in his eye, maybe it was Aya. It was safest to act like it was. And other than the attire, it did look like Aya: blood red hair, vampirically pale skin, and that long gold earring in his left ear with no mate in the right.

"Call me Glinda and die. And stop laughing. It's disgusting."

He did his best to obey, nearly choking on the attempt. "So if you're Gl--"

Oops, death glare.

"--er, the Witch of the North, where's the rest of the gang?"

He flourished the wand to his left. "Over there, awaiting you on that hilltop."

He blinked. Yep, there was a hilltop over there. Funny, he could have sworn it wasn't there before.

"I see Ken -- is that a cat costume? -- and why is Omi dressed in foil?"

"Ken's the Cracked Kitten; we _do_ work in the Koneko, Kudoh, not some jungle. Idiot. And Omi is always carrying around a lot of metal in the form of darts, knives, and arrows; the Aluminum Florist wasn't a far reach."

"Dare I ask what they're in search of?"

"Sanity and memory. Not that it matters. You've a mission, Kudoh. Hunt the tomorrow of these dark beasts already."

"But what about the dog? And aren't you coming, too?" A leer. "Need to change your outfit?"

"No. I already told you Ken is the Kitten. That takes care of the animal requirement." Wait a minute. What would cause a smirk to appear on Aya's face? "And you're a fine one to talk about clothing."

Quizzical, he looked to check on his mission attire. Only to find black had been replaced with blue gingham and -- he patted his head -- what happened to his hair? Something was off, but what? And why?

Aya-Witch waved his wand, and a large soap bubble appeared. With an additional flourish, it became reflective. His hair was in French braids? And he was wearing a modest, white blouse with a blue checked dirndl? This was all wrong! Kudoh Yohji didn't wear dresses!

"Have a fetish for women's clothing or something, Kudoh? After all, this _is_ your dream!"

"ARRRRRRRRRGH!"

The intensity of his scream was the trigger needed to carry him to the waking world. With shaking hands, he reached for and lit a cigarette. Quickly he inhaled, holding the nicotine-laced smoke in his lungs as long as possible.

That was it. He didn't care how much the chibi begged. No more American films and natto before bed.

-end-

Notes

(1) The _atevi_ are from CJ Cherryh's _Foreigner_ novels, and yes, there's an Assassins's Guild in the books. As for the Styx Kilroy tie-in, look at Styx's "Kilroy Was Here" cover (see http:www. exec/ obidos/ tg/ detail/ -/ B000002GF6/ 103-0858441-7296614?vglance cover), then look at the cover art by Michael Whelan for CJ Cherryh's Foreigner novels (see exec/ obidos/ tg/ detail/ -/ 0886776376/ qid1097812147/ sr8-5/ refpdcsp5/ 103-0858441-7296614?vglance&sbooks&n507846) and tell me there's not a resemblance.

I recommend CJ Cherryh in general; as for Styx, it's an acquired taste. Personally I like to hear 'em on the radio but I don't own any of their CDs, tapes, etc.

(2) I pulled the number of Aya's normal outfits out of my butt, but it's loosely based on my experience with cartoons. At least the poor toon has more than one.

(3) The initial idea came from a conversation with cosmorific (thanks cos'!). Also thanks to paxnirvana for the encouragement. Isn't Aya in Glinda's dress worse than the Rose Bride? :evil grin:

(4) All problems and errors are solely my own. Editing suggestions are welcome. And of course I don't own _Weiss Kreuz_, I don't own _The Wizard of Oz_; I can only claim responsibility for shoving Aya into a pink, frothy confection of a dress I wouldn't wish on anyone. This was initially posted on my Live Journal account. (Same user name as my account.) And someday I will have the nerve to try natto.


End file.
